Mrs. Addams was very happy when she saw Andrew walk in that rainy, Tuesday morning.

She bore the brightest smile she had worn on her face in a long time.

Andrew was her seventh grade nemisis. The two hated eachother, for no apparent reason.

Andrew was somewhat sloppy, and his mop of brown, but curly hair was growing out of order. His locker was often full of papers,

crumpled, scattered, etc. He was always carrying with him some kind of science fiction or history related book which had nothing to do with his school subjects.

Mrs. Addams on the other hand, kept her blonde hair perfectly assorted. She stacked each document in the office perfectly. She barely raised her voice to the world, and she was a big fan of all the athletic teams.

Mrs. Addams was the symbol of following the rules, keeping everything perky and happy, and always fantasizing that her job as the office secretary allowed her to be some kind of character in a 1950s, “morning in America” fantasy of small town perfection.

Andrew annoyed her.

But this morning, unlike usually when she was disappointed with having to see him, her face lit up.

“Andrew…” She said with a smile on her face. “It’s good you finally made it to school this morning, I was worried.”

Lying and pretending she cared was of course, part of her act.

But she could barely keep herself from not throwing the desk drawer in front of her open at that very moment.

* * * *

Mrs. Addam’s had started this job a solid five years prior, and one day, during her first year, the principal, whom she had the duty of serving and in essence, waiting on hand in foot had complained.

“Every morning, I have to stop what I am doing and deal with some late kid. It’s so annoying. I have to talk to the school board, I have reports to file, I have teach evaluations to write…”

The principal, the large, bulky, yet semi-depress man had of course, been referring to the long standing rule at the Middle School.

Being in Missouri, a state where paddling was still legal, it school policy that three tardies to school resulted in a spanking.

Students who were late to school, as was policy, had to sign in at the office. The first time was met with a stern reprimand. The second with a lunch time detention. The third, as had been policy since 1918 when the school began, was to not simply sign in, but to stop in the principals office for six whacks of the paddle to remind you to be timely in your arrival to school.

Upon hearing the whining complaints of the principal, Mrs. Addams and gulped. Did she risk asking for what she wanted? Did she dare end up being so thoroughly disappointed as answer of “no” would make her.

“I can take care of the morning paddlings for you.” She had said, almost to nervous to let the words come from her mouth.

“Okay.” Said the principal.

“I used to paddle the freshman in my college sorority…” She said, nervously trying to list off her qualifications. “When I when I played softball in High School I had the hardest swing of any girl on the team…”

“I said Okay!” The principal said, annoyed. “You don’t have to convince me at all.”

With a sigh of relief, Mrs. Addams had closed her mouth as the principal went on about his dying marriage and his annoyance that they had cancelled his favorite TV game show.

Mrs. Addams had a privilege she always longed for. She would have the pleasure, almost each and every morning, of spanking a child’s bottom as hard as she possibly could.

* * * *

“Third time, Andrew.” She remarked, tutting her mouth scoldingly. “That means I’m gonna have to give you a paddling.”

Andrew did not look happy about this at all.

“Come over here.” She motioned, calling the seventh grade boy over to her desk.

She grabbed his shoulders and touched him as much she could as she guided him into the corporal punishment position.

“Your lucky our school still allows this. This helps boys your age learn a lot more than detention.” She said in almost a whispered voice, as Andrew bent over, sticking his bottom out.

Mrs. Addams took a few practice swings through the air.

“Oh… Andrew… I forgot.” She said. “We just changed the policy.”

“What?” Andrew asked, nervously, just hoping to get the impending pain over with.

“We’re now paddling boys on their underpants. I caught an eighth grader stuffing his back pockets. Just drop your shorts down for me.”

Andrew froze, nervous about this request.

Mrs. Addams didn’t for him to obey. She just undid the button on the top of his loose shorts, and then gave the material near his crotch a hard tug.

The shorts hit the floor.

“All right, Andrew.” She said. “I don’t want to have to do this again, so these are going to be the hardest I can must. Be a good boy for me, so I don’t have to do this again.”

Andrew, breathed in a heavy breath.

Mrs. Addams did the same. She then pulled back, and with both hands gripping the big handle of this long oak implement, she swung with all her might.

She soon heard the sound that made her swoon at night, and haunted her most repressed nightmares:

CRACK!

She smiled, with a rush of power and terror combined entering her brain.

She could only think straight enough to remind herself “five more.”

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Andrew stood up. He didn’t cry, but his face was red.

This enraged her.

She slapped his face, in a burst of anger.

Andrew grabbed his face, shocked.

“You give me your arrogants looks!” She roared, now angry.

“I wasn’t ma’am!” He said.

“Oh, nonsense!” She screamed back. “Get back over, that’s six more you brat!”

The true reason for her anger was that the boy wasn’t crying.

She longer for nothing more than to see him cry.

So, Andrew once again bent over the desk. She pulled back, and spanked his bottom six more time, with the thunderous “board of education.”

She said nothing more to him, but she returned to her seat. Like an emperor staring at the battlefield after a victory, she perched herself in her chair, relaxing as rubbing his bottom, Andrew pulled his pants back up, and red faced and teary eyed went back to class.